That aim to snag.
An overwhelming sadness
That dominates the soul,
The face in the tree
That now takes hold.
A soft humming
In the wind,
And the lost voices
That seem to blend in.
Cries and words
Inaudible to the ear,
Yet a sense of evil
That fills one with fear.
Those responsible
Died one by one,
Their spirits in torment
For what was done.
And the unrested souls
To the living will cling,
And nothing but chaos
Do they bring.
The tree witch now is
A popular site—
Unless one visits
In the dead of the night!
Dedication
I would like to dedicate this book to my husband, M.J. Martinez, who has always been my inspiration from the very beginning, along with my daughters, Elisabeth and Crystal. Also, in loving memory of my father and mother, “And Forever God.”
– Annette Martinez
Grave Images, Vol. I Page 4